Renegade
by InsideOutlaw
Summary: Sometimes it's worth the cost to stand up and do what's right.


"Heyes! What's taking you so long?" shouted Jim Plummer. He could see his newest recruit's back bent over as the kid worked on trimming the hooves of one of the mustangs Jim had brought in for remounts. The day was getting away from the outlaw leader and he wanted to finish breaking these nags to saddle. They'd need them for the next job; a job that would require a quick getaway in the middle of nowhere. Fresh mounts were imperative.

The dark-haired young man dropped the last foot of the cranky mare he'd just trimmed. It was back-breaking work even for a young man of twenty and she hadn't made it any easier. She'd rested most of her weight on him every time he held a hoof off the ground. "I'm done except for the stallion."

"Forget that renegade. He'll kill you soon as let you near his feet," said Jim, coming over to get the mare. He cast a jaundiced eye at the flashy bay left in the holding pen. The horse tossed his head and snorted his defiance. He sure was a looker, thought Jim, but he'll take to hell and back to break. It was smarter to stick to the mares. A rogue stallion was nothing but trouble.

Heyes rubbed his lower back as he wiped his other forearm across his sweaty brow. The mare flattened her ears and nipped the air next to him. With what little strength he had left, and aggravated beyond patience, he slapped her neck. Startled, she pulled back on her lead and sat down on her hind end but the rope held. Heyes sighed and untied her, handing the lead to his new boss and watching as Plummer led her away.

Heyes had only joined the gang a little over a month ago and he already rued his decision to trust Jim Plummer. The man was uncommonly greedy and he treated him like dirt. It had taken Heyes' silver tongue a lot of wagging to convince Jim to take on an untried nobody, but Heyes had been desperate. He hadn't known that he'd be little more than slave labor. It was hard on Heyes to be at the bottom of the hierarchy; he saw himself as a leader. At least he used to lead Jed around.

He and his younger cousin had split up six months ago and he hadn't fared well on his own. It hadn't taken him long at all to understand that he needed the safety of a gang to survive. Finding one that would take him on took a little longer. He couldn't help but wonder how Jed was doing. He missed him. It had been a mutual decision to split-another decision he now regretted. It was getting to be a habit with him.

Walking over to a rusty bucket sitting on a tree stump, he picked up a tin cup and dipped it into lukewarm water. Drinking deeply, he watched the other men gathering around the corral. Shaky Sam was in the pen with a sorrel mare. The horse had been snubbed to a post they'd sunk in the ground yesterday for that purpose. Pete held a blindfold wrapped tightly around her head and Grampy was trying to help Sam mount the skittish beast. Finally, his leg swung over and his weight settled into the saddle as Pete stood by in case the horse went berserk and he had to release her head. The frightened mare lifted her head as high as she could while her back hollowed from the unfamiliar weight. Too terrified to move, she stood and shook uncontrollably. Sam pressed his leg against her, gradually increasing the pressure until the mare was uncomfortable and swung her hips away from his leg. He did the same thing with his other leg, repeating the motion over and over until she swayed obediently from side to side.

"Hey Sam, you got a dud. Spur that cow and let's see what's she's got," yelled Pete, releasing the mare's head, pulling off the blindfold, and shooing her away. She shied from him and began to buck. Sam rode her through a couple of hardy bucks then a few half-hearted hops until she settled down and he could put her to work. Twenty minutes later, she was behaving like a veteran saddle horse.

Heyes had drifted over to the corral mesmerized by the process. He'd ridden all his life, but he'd never broken a horse before. He was sure he could do it and he didn't see any reason to be brutal about it. An angry squeal drew his attention and he turned to see the bay pawing at the gate of the pen. The stallion was furious at being separated from his harem.

Sam led the now docile mare from the corral as Jim led in the sorrel mare and handed her over to Pete. That figured. Plummer never did his own dirty work as far as Heyes could tell. He watched them begin to work the mare but soon grew bored and wandered back over to the pen that held the stallion. The horse had seen him coming and watched him warily. Bending to pick up his tools, Heyes didn't see the curious animal creeping nearer. When he stood up, he spooked the horse sending it galloping around the pen tossing its head.

"That jughead had better enjoy his last meal," said Sam on his way back to the corral. He was carrying his saddle.

Heyes' eyes widened, "What d'you mean?"

Sam paused and dropped the back end of the saddle to rest on his boots. "Plummer told Grampy to slaughter him. We're making jerky outta him."

"Why?" Heyes was shocked. The stallion was by far the best of the herd. He looked back at the crested neck and thick muscling of the glossy beast. Brown eyes as dark as his own watched him with a guardedness he mirrored. "You can't do that!"

"I do what I'm told," said Sam, lifting the heavy tack and walking away.

Heyes ran after him, catching him as he neared the corral. He reached out and spun Sam around causing him to drop the saddle. "Heyes, what the…"

"You can't do it. I won't let you!" yelled Heyes. Pete, Grampy, and Plummer turned in their direction, listening intently.

"Sonny, how're you gonna stop us?" said Sam, derisively.

Heyes swung at him, but Pete caught him from behind, pinning his arms at his side. "Easy now, Heyes. You don't want to git yerself kilt now, do ya?"

"What's the hell's going on here?" snarled Plummer. He had no time for this petty squabbling.

Sam chuckled. "Seems Heyes is taking exception to us butchering that stallion."

"He's the best horse you have. He's better than all those mares combined!" shouted Heyes.

"That might be, but he's also a renegade. He's spent his whole life fighting for his freedom. He ain't giving it up easy," said Plummer. "We don't have time for him and we can use the meat."

"No!" Heyes shook himself loose from Pete and got up in Plummer's face. "I'll buy him from you. You can have my cut of the next job."

Jim Plummer had been scowling at his youngest man, but he mulled the offer and then smiled like a satisfied crocodile. He knew a sucker when he saw one. "All right, Heyes. He's yours. Now that you've got him, good luck riding him."

"I ain't planning on riding him." Heyes strode over to the holding pen and swung the heavy gate open.

"What the heck is he doin'?" said Pete.

Sam smiled. "Looks to me like he's setting that stud loose." He watched the stallion inch closer to the gate, keeping one eye on Heyes. As the bay's shoulders passed through the gate, he took one last look as his band of mares and plunged into a gallop, taking off up the trail leading away from the camp. The men could hear him crashing through the brush and shrubs that narrowed the path.

"I'm holding you to our agreement, Heyes," said Plummer, walking away with Grampy and Sam.

"Why'd you do it, Heyes?" asked Pete, bewildered by the boy's actions.

Heyes didn't say answer. He left Pete standing there and walked over to finish picking up his tools. He knew why he'd done it; he'd looked in that animal's eyes and seen a kindred spirit. That horse was every bit the outlaw he was.


End file.
